The Very Rampant Emotional Manipulation

Not being dependent on anyone for emotional and professional reasons suited him.

In fact, it would suit everyone. He was pondering over the fact that many people felt slighted when their emotions or egos weren’t catered to, as if they were entitled to be catered to, a result of an imagined order that existed inside their minds, which seemed to carry them exactly nowhere in real life, but miles, in their minds. In retrospect, he wasn’t blaming them. The blame lay with precisely no one, because the norm was to be blindly oblivious to multiple facets of life, and accept them for what they were, rather than ponder over and debate its existence and relevance in the twenty-first century.

There was no right or wrong in the world because it was a world consisting of many worlds, each inhabiting many minds who worked in different ways and sought to either stamp their thoughts, opinions and actions over a select group of people till their actions became the new standard, or followed the actions of the instigators to become a cog in the wheel charioted by the main thinkers and doers. In that sense, every human was both an authority and a worker for someone else. Who in the world was unanswerable to no one? No one except the central banks? But they were governed too, by individuals whose credibility depended on how efficiently the world’s financial markets behaved, themselves a product of the emotions and actions of the mass of humanity who operated in it, everyone a part of their systems, oblivious to the faces who were in charge of it.

How could one really understand people? Algorithms.

They were permeating across the world at breakneck speed, making things more and more efficient, becoming smarter with every repetitive action they took, fashioned in the way human brains were, their vast network mimicking the firing of the neurons in the human brain, understanding what really produced human consciousness and intelligence, though it was a few decades away from doing so.

There was a very great need to fulfil a bond inside him that sometimes it hurt him, in the form of tiny stabs that tore away near his chest, as if the body was indicating its preference for a companion in these times of human disconnect and lack of empathy towards people, a disease that seemed to conflict the well to do humans much more than the people whose roots were seeped in the welfare of their respective families. He felt compelled to remove every trace of emotion from his life because it didn’t make sense for him to put up with it, except if the emotions led to sex.

Sometimes, he wondered if he wasn’t a nice person to talk to. People thought he was weird and he was fine with it. He was fine with anything because he was long past name-calling to cajole people into reacting their wits out into something they were likely to be embarrassed about later. No, he had no pretence for name calling and believed in resolving differences in opinions through a juxtaposition consisting of facts and original data sources, an exercise frowned upon by many since short-term thinking and jumping to one-cause conclusions was rampant, conveniently ignoring the fact that every situation, phenomenon and effect on earth since the dawn of time had come about as a result of the combination of multiple reasons, including evolution.

It just didn’t make sense for him to educate someone to see things in a new way. Let them be.

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